Chapters (71)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Family Tree
- Prologue
- Harry and Emma Clifton: 1970–1971
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Giles Barrington: 1971
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1971
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Sebastian Clifton: 1971
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1972
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Maisie Clifton: 1972
- Chapter 25
- Emma Clifton: 1972–1975
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Sebastian Clifton: 1975
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Hakim Bishara: 1975
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Giles Barrington: 1976–1977
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Harry and Emma Clifton: 1978
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Epilogue: 1978
- About the Author
- Also by Jeffrey Archer
- Newsletter Sign-up
“Mr. Clifton or Mr. Kaufman, for example? Don’t forget they were at school together. One of them may see himself as the next chairman, and sooner than expected if you were safely out of the way.”
“There’s no doubt that one of them will eventually take my place as chairman. But I can assure you, Mr. Hammond, they are both one hundred percent trustworthy and have more than proved their loyalty over the past few days. No, Mr. Hammond, you’ll have to look further afield than that.”
“What about any other board members?”
“They’re either too old, too busy, or well aware that they’re not up to the job.”
Arnold Hardcastle allowed himself a smile.
“Well, there’s someone out there who wants to see you locked up for a very long time, otherwise why take so much trouble to have you arrested for a crime you didn’t commit?”
“But if someone like that had been on the plane, surely I would have recognized them.”
“They wouldn’t have been on the plane,” said Hammond. “He or she would have used someone who was above suspicion, who could get on board that flight with thirteen ounces of heroin without anyone suspecting them. A stewardess perhaps, or even the pilot.”
“But why?” said Hakim.
“Greed or fear is usually the answer to that question, Mr. Bishara. Money is almost always the catalyst. Some debt they needed to pay, some piece of information they didn’t want revealed. Don’t worry, Mr. Bishara, I’ll find out who it was. But it won’t come cheap.”
Hakim nodded. The mention of money and he felt on firmer ground. “What’s it going to cost me?”
“I’ll need a small team. Two, possibly three. They’ll have to be experts in their fields, and they’ll expect to be paid in cash, up front.”
“How much?”
“Five grand.”
“You’ll have it later today,” said Hakim, who nodded to Arnold. “And your payment, Mr. Hammond?”
“I’ve given that some thought, and I’d prefer to be paid on results.”
“What did you have in mind?” asked Hakim, remembering another of his father’s golden rules: in any deal, always wait for the other side to make the opening bid.
“Five thousand pounds if I find the person responsible for planting the heroin. Ten thousand if they’re arrested and charged. Twenty thousand if I discover the person or persons behind the operation. And another thousand for every year of their sentence.”
Hakim could have bargained for an hour and probably lowered Hammond’s demands by 30, 40 even 50 percent, but as his father had once told him, sometimes the opening bid is the one you should settle for, especially if the stakes are high. In this case, the stakes couldn’t have been higher.
He rose slowly from his chair, offered an outstretched hand and said, “You have a deal, Mr. Hammond.”
* * *